Generating Life
by crewmatrix
Summary: Sucked into the corrupted game of Minecraft, Victor must dodge dangerous monsters, join forces with his enemies, encounter the legendary hacker, and escape from the virtual prison and break his chains.
1. Saving Chunks

Who knew what would happen in five short minutes.

Curiosity is a dangerous trait. More deadly and powerful than you think. It sucks you in a tunnel that you could never escape from. You discover many great things in this tunnel, but you soon realize your discoveries are more poisonous as you take a step closer. The tunnel stops when you reached the peak; death is the end of this snaking tunnel. It was a shame that I am one of the few that fell through that pitch-black hole in the tunnel. And yet this tunnel is very long, and anyone could hope for a fork that leads to a brighter exit…

I wasn't a desperate prisoner then. I had a life. Nineteen years of it, and I was attending the best college in the country, and I had engaged to my long-time girlfriend. Oh well. What others didn't know is that it takes those wonderful entities of life so quickly, tearing you apart until you are nothing but an old, broken soul with contorted flesh.

I was surfing the internet on my laptop when I realized the little AVG security text bubble on the lower-right hand corner.

_One threat detected._

I clicked the bubble. The AVG interface window popped up, asking me whether or not to delete the file.

_File: Minecraft_

I never had Minecraft on my computer. I didn't even know what Minecraft was. This computer was used, and I didn't pay extra to delete the files that had already existed.

I know security programs like AVG were a bit paranoid, but I was a little anxious. I could have shaken this off, but the name stuck to be like bubble gum on the bottom of my shoe.

I took the computer to the shop I bought it from. I rung the bell for the boss.

"Hello?"

A grunt man about six feet tall trudged out of the back the shop, his beard soaked with beer.

"What the hell do you want?"

I wasn't ruffled at all. "I bought this computer like a year ago and I discovered a file on it. It's called Minecraft."

The man shifted his weight on one foot. "That computer wasn't on sale."

I raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, it was. It was on your catalog."

"Let me tell you something, boy. If I were you, I'd delete that file forever and forget the name. It's not something to be toyed with. Minecraft is a game, but I expect you wouldn't open it to play it. It would destroy you."

"Yes, sir."

But I was too ignorant to listen. This is when I was halfway down the hole.

I went home late at night and opened Minecraft. According to the computer, it was corrupted. Obviously, I didn't know the dangers it posed.

Minecraft itself was missing some files. I could tell the previous owner of the computer didn't have time to delete all of them. So all I saw was a console where I could control the game.

"_Guest6 has joined the game."_

I played around with the commands. There wasn't much to do since I didn't actually have the game, but my curiosity went farther down the tunnel when the screen popped up, telling me that the game has crashed, and it couldn't find the error. I was fine with that. What bothered me was about the man at the shop.

_"Let me tell you something, boy. If I were you, I'd delete that file forever and forget the name. It's not something to be toyed with. Minecraft is a game, but I expect you wouldn't open it to play it. It would destroy you."_

Too late. Even after I've gone to the computer to put the file in the trash, it said that I had already signed up. At that point Minecraft opened again, this time with an alert message from "Guest5".

"_Open Vid_13_."

I was too scared to disobey. Hands shaking, I searched in the Start Menu for "Vid_13". I clicked it, and it opened up in Windows Movie Player.

In the video was a teenager, about 19. He was biting his lip nervously as he stared into the camera, his brown hair matted with sweat. I didn't know where he was, but I could see he was using a computer to record this.

_My_ computer.

"Hi. Whoever you are-"he looked fearfully behind him, "Nevermind. You don't understand what's happening right now. I'm telling you right now, don't open the file called Minecraft. I swear, they will get you- JUST DON'T OPEN THE DARN FILE." He took a deep breath. "Tomorrow I'm selling the computer, but I don't know if it would help. If you get this computer, which I know you did because you're listening to this video right now, just delete Minecraft forever."

"Some-something went wrong with development. I don't know, it became corrupted. It has capabilities far beyond normal files. Like a-a human. But don't worry. As long as you don't open it, you should be safe. It's a very poisonous file, but I just put up a barrier that won't poison your entire computer as long as you don't open it." He looked around. "Got to go. I have barely enough time."

Just like that, the video turned black.

Well, lucky me. I opened Minecraft first _then _watched the video. At least I'll come to some very painful end, according to the teenager.

I swerved back to the Minecraft file. I had questions about Guest5. Through the text box, I typed in "ToGuest5: Who are you?"

I waited a few seconds until a new message popped up:

_"GET AWAY FROM HERE NOW."_

That's it. I shut my laptop and packed a few clothes and some snacks. I grabbed my wallet and the car keys and drove to my girlfriend's house.

It was quiet ride. I didn't know if I was hallucinating or not, but I heard moans. And hisses.

_What is wrong with me?_

I parked in her driveway and locked the door as soon as I got out. I might have looked pretty messy, because when she opened the door, she seemed surprised.

"Victor?"

She helped me inside and told me to sit on the couch while she got some bread and coffee. I was tense on the couch, reacting to every strange sound I heard. I turned around a saw a glimpse of green of a four-legged creature. As soon as I took it in, it disappeared in a flash.

"Did you see that?"

"See what?"

"That four-legged green thing."

"Victor, stop it. Your just dreaming."  
>I hope she was right. But I couldn't loosen up as I saw those flashes of green, sometimes white, and some black.<p>

"Carolyn, I need to stay here for a while. Maybe two days?"

She signed as she brought me the bread and coffee on a silver tray. "Sure, Victor. But what's wrong? You are all shaken up, your hair's a mess, and you're telling me about a four-legged green creature."

She was a concerned girlfriend. "I don't know. It's just-"

Carolyn put her hand on my shoulder. "Don't waste your breath. It's okay. Bread?"

I took one reluctantly. She told me the guest room was upstairs, and everything would be taken care of. I was a little comforted by that.

After dragging my bag up the stairs, I flicked on the lights. It was a low ceiling bedroom, more compatible as a getaway than a primary home. I dropped the bags on the desk to see something that made them drop on the floor.

_The laptop._

Oh my god. I flung the door open, only to see the green things again, followed by spider-looking creatures and white humanoids with bows. The green things were opened-mouthed and emotionless, walking towards me. All of them began to surround me.

"_Starting countdown for transaction."_

What transaction? The laptop began to shake. But I couldn't think as I felt more nauseous every second as they began to close on to me.

"_5…"_

I stepped on a green thing's foot.

"_4…"_

I was losing a wrestle match with two spiders.

"_3…"_

I couldn't win. I would be swallowed.

"_2…"_

I was letting death consume me.

"_1…"_

Darkness was all I saw. But what I felt was more intense and fearful than I have ever imagined.

Darkness? How could you describe the blackness? It was more than that, as if it had a little light illuminating in the almost-black world.

The pain, though, could not be explained in a few measly words. It was as though I was on fire, morphing and forever changing my body. I could have screamed, except that the pain was so horrible that I couldn't scream. I was focusing too much on the pain.

And then it was black.


	2. Almost Dying

I wondered in my sleep.

Could this be the tunnel's end?

I was running, running away from the darkness that was approaching. My feet slapped the puddles of water as they dashed across the stone floor. I was breathing hard, my eyes wide with fear. All I saw was pure darkness; in front of me and behind me.

But I knew deep in my heart that I was dying. I had visions; flashes of Death, in his robes of black and scythe, reaching out to me, clawing toward my heart with a bony hand. I saw my reflection on the cold metal: a white skeleton, sitting motionless in a cavern.

I shook it off. It couldn't happen. I pounded on faster, escaping the tendrils of darkness that reached out for me.

My feet skid as I reached a dead end.

"No, NO!"

How quickly had the wild ride ended. This was the end of the tunnel, and I will die right here. I might as well built a gravestone from the rock in the tunnel. Agonizing pain gripped at my neck and grabbed at my legs: who else wanted me to die? First it was Death. Now the devil? Oh, who's next? _God?_

I was screaming this time, my knuckles bleeding from frequent pounding on the rock. The walls seemed to contrast, closing in on me with a mirror twist. The darkness sitting by, waiting for me to die. Time seemed to slow down with my heartbeat as my breathing slowed.

Suddenly time sped up. The walls expanded, and all I could see was the flash of light in front of me, opening a hole in the ceiling, revealing a tiny illumination above.

Death took a step back, nodding in respect. "I shall see you again soon, Victor Kravitz." I nodded back, watching his army of darkness withdraw into the pitch-black of the tunnel.

Looking up toward the hole, I knew I should be thankful. I had survived the first part, and I knew it wasn't over.

"Thank you."

I climbed up into the hole and woke up.


	3. Building Terrain

My head broke through the water.

"Ahh!" I took a deep breath. Memories flooded back to me, hitting me at full impact at the speed a jet. I nearly flipped backwards, imagining the horrible bastards of monsters, closing in on me, grabbing me…

I instantly made for land in this mysterious place and settled down on a sandy shore of a deserted, small island. So this is what the laptop meant by transaction; taking me to a strange world where I didn't know how to live in it, if you were supposed to. That said, I dug a hole in the cubish sand.

_Cubish?_

I leaped back in surprise, staring at the block of sand in front of me. It was roughly pixilated, with bits of brown and tan.

What was this? I merely poked the block. It felt like regular sand compacted by a strange force that made matter become blockish.

Looking for answers, I peered into the sky. Above me was the navy blue void of the sky and a square moon followed by more tinier, white squares. Huh. Where was I, square world? I thought this was hell, if hell really consisted of cubes.

If this is where my computer took me, I must be in Minecraft. Could it really be easy just to say that I was in Minecraft? I suspected I was. After all, hadn't that teenager said not to open it?

I had, I was hallucinating, and now I am in the computer game.

I had absolutely no experience in the game, for I only had the console which I played around for a bit. How do you win? How do you survive? I had questions only the void could answer in my surroundings.

I didn't want to die. With daubs of dirt and sand, I built a rickety shack in minutes. Before covering up the doorway, I heard a hissing sound to the right…

_Spider!_

Red pixel eyes stared at me with hatred and hostility, boring into with skin with the poison it possessed. Swinging one its great ropey limbs, it slashed my side and I was forced to my knees in a swirl of pain, seeing the spider retreat and strike again. This time I rolled to the side to avoid being pierced by the sharp legs.

I punched a block of dirt and crawled through it, hoping for air to escape. Too late. The spider must have received the message and had climbed to my roof, ready to pounce on my neck to deliver the final blow.

"Catch!"

I must be dreaming. Hearing the voice of a must-be humanoid, I was relieved. I had no time to focus on rescue, though, as a wooden sword hammered through the sky and struck the ground with the strength of thunder. Reactively, I picked up the wicked blade and stabbed the spider through the abdomen before it could kill me.

Simple as that. I had lived my first encounter with one of my worst enemies in Minecraft.

But I wasn't done. Sticking the sword and the dirt and picking up the string the spider left behind, I called out.

"Show yourself!"

In the shadows of the forest was the illumination of fire. I could not mistake that. Behind the trees came out a lanky, dirty boy with matted hair the color of dirt, maybe twenty years old. His tan limbs were built from days of hard living, his face rigid and emotionless as a stone, but cracks and creases on his face shown the fear he had gone through, and I believed he was still experiencing it.

"Guest5," I said.


	4. Meeting Hope

"I'd rather you call me Anton," said the teenager, looking irritated.

I had approached him cautiously, as if he was a wild animal. We had a few feet between us now. "Hello, Anton." I went back to the sand and pulled the sword out, handing it to Anton. "Here's your sword. Thanks for letting me use it."

"Keep it." His voice was gruff, rough at the edges as if life had grinded the smoothness away. "I got a million back at the base."

"Why'd you save me?" I asked as Anton pulled out some black rocks and sticks. He gracefully rubbed the rock against the stick, which caught on fire. He rummaged through his leather sack for more sticks, which he promptly lit on fire.

He was quiet for a few moments. "You're new here. This is my newcomer's welcome." At that point he got up, surveying the woods. "We cannot stay long here. Follow me. I'll take you to the base." He picked up a block of sand and chucked it at the campfire, which immediately diminished to nothing. "Come on."

Anton sprinted into the forest, with me following suit. I could barely keep up with him as he hopped over boulders and cartwheeled through the trees like they were bug-sized pebbles. I clumsily climbed over these boulders, the ominous hisses and groans in the looming darkness quickening my pace. Anton's torch left a trail of blazing light in the air, making it easy to catch up with him, even if I tripped on the occasional stone block.

I almost bumped into him as he abruptly paused at the base of the mountain, his eyes dashing back and forth to two identical looking stone blocks. "Right, this one," he muttered, pointing to the left one. He walked towards it, lifting it up like a sack of potatoes and setting it down next to the newly-revealed doorway the stone block had hidden.

Grazing my way through the muddy entrance, I followed Anton into a small, dirt room with an adjacent stone staircase that must lead to the base. I climbed the spiraling stairway, pausing at every torchlight to pant.

At last of what seemed like an eternity, Anton opened an iron door to a vast, open lounge with planks for chairs and slabs for tables. The room was dimly lit by a makeshift chandelier consisting of planks hanging from string with torches placed on the side. Men and women were seated on the ground, communication vibrant between them. All heads turned to the doorway when Anton and I entered.

"How was hunting, Anton?" asked a burly-looking man. His dull brown eyes suddenly churned with excitement at the sight of his friend. "And who's this new fish here?"

"This is… Guest6. But his real name is…" Anton tilted his head towards me.

I coughed. "Victor Kravitz."

Everyone seemed a little uncomfortable at the sound of the name. Even Anton, who seemed to lose a little bit of control as his eyes twitched. He quickly recovered as he looked at the man. "Got eight pieces of leather today, nine mushrooms, and fourteen pieces of pork for everyone." He dumped his leather bag on one of the tables, and quickly retaliated as his mates mauled the bag for the pork. "Don't be selfish!" yelled Anton over the noise. "Everyone gets one, and Theeves will cook the mushrooms for some stew. Reiner, hand the leather over to the crafting table." He turned toward me, handing me a piece of steaming, grilled pork. "Saved you one."

Having not eaten anything in a while, I literally snatched the pork out of his hands and wolfed down in seconds. True goodness had been captured in this meat, fueling my body and giving me the energy to let go of the questions I had in the back of my mind for a while.

"What's Minecraft?"

"Will I be stuck here forever?"

"Where can I get water?"

"How exactly did I get he-"

Anton grabbed my shoulders. "Hey. I'll answer all those questions for you, and would've been more prepared if I didn't know pork had caffeine in it." He grinned. "Come on. I'll take you to your new room."

We dodged flying pieces of pork to another shorter staircase that lead to a small bedroom with a twin-sized bed. I lay my wooden sword on the bedside and plopped down on the bed with Anton.

"First question," he declared. "But don't go too fast, or I won't keep up with you."

"Alright," I said. "What is Minecraft?"

"Minecraft is a game where you basically build blocks and destroy them for different purposes, like surviving or building. You can make stuff like weapons, chests, and armor to survive against monsters that come out at night," drawled Anton.

"Got that part," I replied.

"Minecraft got corrupted because of some… issues at the company," Anton said, anticipating my next question. "I believe everyone in the building died when the corruption became reality. That's when regular players started opening their game. Instead, they were confronted by something else…" he gradually got quieter, "Most of them died off, not expecting to be in their game where it was all fun and make-believe. This is survival about their life, not a stupid creeper blowing up their avatar-"

"What's a creeper?"

"Those green four-legged things you saw that make you get the shivers. They hide until you get close, and then explode." He cleared his throat. "Like I said, if you die here, you actually die. It's not a game anymore. It has evolved into a trail of life and death.

"If you wander around this world, you'll start to see black tendrils. That's part of a corrupted body no one really knows about. But if you touch it, you'll die. And no one knows really how you did, but the effects are gruesome, and… terrifying."

I got up. "I can't stay here, Anton. I have a life out there besides this world, and I can't keep myself distracted by mutilated bodies and dead companies. Is there anyway I could get out of here?"

I didn't know if I was imagining or what, but it seemed like the entire mountain shook aside a deep, rumbling sound. Anton glanced nervously at the door, lowering his voice. "There is a way," he whispered. "We think there is, anyways. People who dared tried never came back, and we will never know if they got out or died.

"I don't think you've heard of the Far Lands…"

His voice drifted off into oblivion, and I realized he was trying to process the fear that was now coursing through his blood. "The Far Lands are the end of this 'infinite' map. Land generation becomes haywire, and physics are more absurd that ever. As you go on, the blocks aren't even solid anymore. If you fall through, you'll end up in a place that none of us could ever describe."

I shifted uncomfortably. "So how do I escape…"

"Theories state that if you fall through these blocks, you'll end up in the Void, which isn't complete darkness, but rather a place that is in beat with the time of the day. If you fall through it enough, you'll end up of the room you were in before you were teleported into Minecraft."

I was silent. This Void seemed to pull me down farther…

Anton leaped up. "Don't tell me that you're considering it! I mean, you'll probably won't even survive if you walk there! It takes like, a million years to walk there! And you'll probably die in the Void anyways-"

"Anton, I need to get back to my life! Everyone will be worried for me…" I took a deep breath. "I'm willing to take risks to get out of this prison."

Anton hesitated. "Well…"

The door slammed open. "Anton! Aristotle is having one of his fits again! And there's a creeper right outside our door!" The girl was panting, looking up at Anton.

"Coming!" Anton burst through the doorway. I clambered down the stairs to see what was happening.

It was chaotic in the lounge. One of the men, a bony thwart, was screaming, grasping his head as other men and women tried to grab him, to control him…

"_Klutz, don't! You won't survive! It's too dangerous- the teleporting device- there's something wrong with it! Klutz- no! No! NO! No…"_

Aristotle had crashed into the walls, knocking down furniture and finally, tumbling through the door and breaking its hinges-

"THERE'S A CREEPER OUT THERE!"

_Boom!_

I winced. Lamely, I should say. I threw myself to the ground as chunks of stone and dirt sailed through the air, barely missing my head. People were screaming, hiding behind tables and chairs as people were flipped backwards into walls. The sound was deafening, maximizing the fear that had suddenly settled in them.

But the explosion was quick, yet the damage was noticeable. I almost flinched again at the sight of the hole in the wall where the door used to be. A giant pit had formed at the entrance, and I swore I saw a finger sticking out of a pile of undisturbed dirt.

When the ash cleared, I saw the survivors rise to look at the damage. Some kicked the broken shards of glass, muttering, "This world treats us like pieces of crap."

Others kneeled down to the wall, shaking their heads and whispering prayers. Anton himself picked up a disfigured body from the ruins; with his mouth halfway open as if saying a hello to Death. His arm was bent backwards and part of his leg had whisked off somewhere else.

"Aristotle, say your last prophecy." Anton stared hardly into his lifeless eyes. He had seen death before many times of friends and loved ones, and it still pained him to see one of his mates blown up by a sworn enemy.

"Has anyone else passed on?" Anton cried out, glancing at every one of us. All shook their heads in response.

"Good. Bury his body somewhere where he will be remembered. Aristotle…" Several men took the body away and wrapped it in a wool blanket. "Goodbye, my friend…"

I stood awkwardly in the back, not sure what to do. Should I comfort Anton? But Anton seemed to shake it off as he turned towards us, his face hard as if he was born from rock itself. "Go do something. Victor, come with me." He beckoned me over. I was basically paralyzed, so I obeyed and tailed him through a hallway into a workshop of what looked like crafting benches, iced with bolts and item parts. The entire room was lit by a single torch that illuminated the smoke that had pumped out of the furnaces. In the back of the room was a shelf of more parts, stacked neatly on top of each other.

Anton told me to go to one of the crafting tables. He taught me how to make a sword…

"Put the stick on the bottom and put your material of choice on top…"

I placed the iron ingots on the stick and merged them together.

"A deadly killer is now born!" I whizzed the sword above my head, admiring the sharpness and tone of the blade. Anton crookedly smiled, grabbing more parts from the shelf and teaching me how to make armor, more crafting tables, furnaces, beds...

It was early dawn when we settled down on one of the chairs of the lounge, tired and mourning of the death. A ray of sunlight pierced the dull, grey sky of the morning.

"That's Aristotle," said Anton, seemingly tranquilized by the sight.

"Wow," I said.

"He was my cousin, but acted more of a brother towards me." Anton crossed his legs, remembering the days. "Taught me how to survive when I got here, like you." He suddenly got up from his chair, newfound energy bursting in his body. "Tell you what, Victor. We can go to the Far Lands."

I looked up at him in surprise. "I thought you said you didn't want me to."

He shook his head. "Not before Aristotle was killed by that damn creeper."

"Well-" I started, "you said it would take to long to get there."

Anton sat down. "Not if you go through The Hacker."

"The Hacker?"

"Well, he can hack into the game with a computer he built-"

"By hacking-"

"Yeah. Anyways, he might be able to teleport you to the coordinates that indicate the beginning of the Far Lands."

I nodded. "That seems awesome. Where is this hacker?"

He shrugged. "Well, I believe that if you go east far enough, you'll a mob-proof cave where he lives."

"We can go today!"

"Tonight. I have to hunt for my mates, and we have to get ready."

"Anton!"

Anton rushed up to me in the crafting room. "Explained it to them, and I think we are ready to go…"

"Yeah. Twelve pieces of armor, a bunch of tools, millions of pork, two stacks of torches, and coal."

Anton breathed in deeply. "Okay. Since they're still rebuilding the front, we're going out from the back door."

We crept silently through the hallway, reaching a concealed door which led to the back of the mountain.

"Let's go." Anton took a torch from the wall and walked out.

This was it. I had dared myself to visit the Void, and now I was closer to winning this bet myself.

_"Here I come, life!"_


	5. The Plot Thickens

We didn't strike up a conservation as we headed down the grassy mountain. Anton was quiet, and I awkwardly followed, for we really didn't have anything to talk about.

After a couple of bruises and some light cuts, we stopped at the boundary of the forest. Spruce trees dotted the land, their shadows under the moonlight twisting and churning as the wind whistled softly through their leaves. Anton halted to the stop, his brown hair turning a silver liquid under this blessed moonlight. Like an animal native to the forest, he twitched at every frightening sound, using his instincts to interpret our next path.

"We'll need to stop," he finally said. "The forest is too dangerous to travel through."

I nodded. "Alright." I let my drop to the floor. My back had almost broke to the unsustainable weight of the shovels and pickaxes I was carrying. I flexed my shoulders. "What next?"

Anton dug through the pack, throwing me a stone shovel. "We dig a hidey hole and wait out till morning."

I agreed, and we both grabbed shovels, digging into the slope of a fainting hill. Tall, thriving grass tickled our knees as I cleaved dirt blocks into showers of pixels. Satisfied with the layout, we moved in with our workbenches and furnaces, creating more supplies to last us another day.

Anton weaved the string into an ash bow, smoothening it with a small, stone dagger. We didn't strike up a conversation, for I knew Anton was still thinking of something that had strengthened the tension in the air.

A few moments later though, he put his handcrafted bow down on the workbench and faced me. "Do you want to know why we were uncomfortable when you said your name?"

I didn't answer. I too, was quite curious. "Yeah. I kind of do."

Anton bit his lip, hesitating. "Before Aristotle was killed, he said… Well, something about a 'Purifier' saving two worlds from rust. Then… he mentioned your name in it."

I put down my leather. I had been struck by words that had no definition yet held a meaning in its taunting hands. "I don't know anything about the Purifier. I don't even know much of my life. All I can remember is being raised in a foster home, never adopted until I left at the age of seventeen.

"But this really strange thing happened to me one morning, when the lady at the desk said something like, 'Oh, Victor? Do you need Victor? Well, we only accept adoptions, not bribes.' Then she said something about a company that wanted to use me for something."

Anton tried to process this with his mind. "Maybe Aristotle was just plain insane," he said, taking his shot at comforting me. "I mean, he had 'little' episodes of cutscenes that he acted out. Maybe he was just crazy…

"One night, when Aristotle was his old, brilliant self, he was abducted by creepers, who, surprisingly, didn't blow him up. The next week, he had suddenly appeared on our doorstep, whimpering, and we took him in. Every night, though, he woke up screaming about some nonsense, and as his faithful cousin, I did my best to comfort my traumatized cousin driven mad. But the creepers _did_ end up blowing my cousin into bits," he said, unsure whether or not to continue with his dark story.

"Yeah." Anton was hard to soothe because his emotions encased him inside jagged ice, and the only way to thaw it was time.

We didn't talk again, knowing Anton had still not melted until he accidently dropped his bow. His head whipped toward the door, his ears seemingly twitching to an unmistakable sound…

"There's a creeper here," Anton said gravely. "Go kill it."

This was unbelievable. "Why do I have to?" I said stubbornly.

"This is one of your fighting lessons," Anton replied. He was on fire now, their dark essence raging in his eyes. "I'm not fighting something that had killed my cousin."

That being said, his eyes began to droop. I tiptoed past him, gripping my iron sword with one hand. My other hand reached out for the doorknob as I slowly approached it. My heart was beating, and from what Anton told me, I must not stay too long around it.

"Come on, Victor, you can do it," I told myself. Self-encouragement always seemed to work for me, so I tightened my grip around the brass doorknob and opened the door.

"Yaahhh!" It hissed so loudly, so pissed off that I hadn't been surprised about him. Dotted with different shades of green pixels, it stared at me, emotionless, with sunken black eyes and an endless mouth that represented the last thing you saw before death.

I was proud of myself for coming up with that description that quickly, because I had only stayed out there for one second before dashing back inside, slamming the door closed and shrinking at the sight of a disappointed Anton, his arms crossed and his eyes the color of crashing waves on a shore. "Go kill the creeper!" he said sternly.

I was prepared this time. I wasn't going to fail my mentor. I kicked the door open with the force of a truck and brought the blade down on the creeper's head.

But the weirdest thing was that it began to _speak._

Creepers don't speak English. Anton told me that back at the base. How did this supposedly _wandering_ creeper learn how to speak English? Strange, I thought. What was even stranger was what it said.

"_He watches you in his ssssssleep. The legendary mirror image of you, he is the opposite of hope…"_ it said in a rough, snakish accent before melting into pixilated ashes.

Stuns were my weakest spot. I stand there, dumbfounded, frozen like an icicle, giving anyone a chance to break my neck or stab me in the back while I'm still trying to comprehend the _stunning_ event. My hand, shaking with fear and confusion, clasped around three pieces of paper left behind by the dead creeper. I picked these up, only to read it with bloodshot eyes…

"What are you _talking _about?"

Anton had missed the entire scene, which was a shame, because I didn't have the positive energy to explain it to him. In a few shaking words, he understood, looking at me with disturbed, blue eyes.

"Creepers can't speak English! And these pieces of paper…" he twirled them around his lanky fingers.

"This is a pass to the CCC…"

"CCC?" I asked, peering at the little slip of paper.

"Creeper's Court of… Camarilla? What's a camarilla?"

"I don't know. But whatever it is, this creeper belongs to some type of weird organization."

"Okay… well…" Anton seemed a little uncomfortable at the second piece of paper, which was folded neatly into an envelope. "This one says something about being sent on a mission to kill the… Purifier."

My eyes widened. They didn't widen completely, but in truth and a sprinkle of understanding, I was dumbstruck. Again. This was embarrassing, hearing a truth and then almost fainting just by hearing those words.

I had a bottle of questions to answer, knowing most of them couldn't come from Anton, and some of those questions had answers I knew but didn't want to believe. Still, though, I took a shot with the most obvious question to an also stupefied Anton.

"Who is a Purifier?"

Anton rubbed his forehead. "It must be you. I-I mean, there's nothing special about me. Why would a creeper want my life for?"

I felt seriously guilty about Aristotle…

Anton must've known what I was thinking, because at that point he grasped my hand gently and said, "It's not your fault, Victor. Aristotle would be willing to die for anyone, especially someone who plays a big part in stopping the 'rust of two worlds'."

"And the third?"

"Coordinates and directions to the CCC. Hey, we could go there and comfort this super evil organization and get some answers out of them."

I was being thankful to Anton. "I guess, but what about the thing the creeper said?"

"Well, apparently, you are hope, and he is like despair and destruction and death and turmoil and chaos-"

"I got the point." I interrupted, not sure if I wanted to hear more about my life.

"He probably looks like you, too," Anton pointed out. "And he watches you all the time."

"So that means our only question is 'who is this guy'?"

"Yeah." Anton opened the door. "Looks like its morning." He held up the slip of paper with the coordinates on it. "We're going to their lair."


End file.
